Until Tonight
by Seallyn
Summary: Inquisitor Lavellan and Commander Cullen have feelings for each other, but neither will admit it. Only in their dreams are they able to express their desires. How long can they survive on fantasy alone?


_**Cullen**_

 _Maker, she was beautiful. No. Beauty was beneath her. She was fiercely majestic. An angelic being, Andraste back to life. Long, rich, dark brown, and braided hair slicked back by sweat. Her slight yet muscular, elven body stained in the heavy deepness of blood. Her vallaslin tattooed face etched in a savage sneer as another demon fell to one of her expertly driven arrows. Her chest heaved, causing her full breasts to bounce slightly._

 _She threw up her left hand towards the pale green rift before them. Her body shuddered as her hand quaked, the strange force she now bore spewed forth it's powerful magic, imploding the rift. She turned to him and spoke, her voice as smooth as silk._

 _The words floated by him, out of his reach. He stood dumbfounded. She moved closer to him, the smell of blood, sweat, and the faintest hint of crystal grace enthralled him. She was fear and lust in the same cruel creature. Blood pounded in his ears and his cock strained against his metal codpiece. He ached for her._

 _The world around them faded away as she glided over to him, a hand reaching up to his face, blessing his cheek. He let out a frustrated sigh. Her voluptuous lips parting into a sultry smile._

 _"Fuck me, Cullen," she purred. He gasped at her audacity. Her hand slowly dripped to his neck, tracing his arteries. Sweat beaded down his forehead hitting his eyelashes and splashing on to the ground._

 _She backed away slowly and began removing her leather armor. He wanted to beg her to stop, fearful of the impropriety. Instead he stood still, paralyzed; mouth gaping, heartbeat racing, eyes transfixed on the painting composing itself in front of him._

 _Her skin was dark, sun-kissed, the result of spending so much time in woods and fields. She unbraided her hickory hair and let it fall voluminously around her shoulders, the tips of it reaching the round crest of her breasts. Her bright, jade green eyes penetrated him and he moaned feeling a warmth spread through his loins. She lazily thrust her index finger into her mouth, moistening it. She let it fall to one of her firm breasts and began tracing a circle around her nipple._

 _Cullen absent-mindedly reached for his groin, metal glove meeting metal plate. He pressed the silverite further against his body, putting an intense pressure against his throbbing cock. The pressure was too much for him to withstand and he ejaculated harshly. He called out forcefully in pleasure. She frowned gliding back up to him._

 _"Tsk, tsk," her tongue clucked. "I will have to punish you for that." She quickly dismantled his armor; feather topped cape, pauldrons, chest plate, gauntlets, gloves. Cullen remained incapacitated stuck in between desire and terror. Soon he was naked before her._

 _Her wild eyes absorbed his athletic build and hungrily gazed at his large cock that was once again fully engorged. He flexed the muscles in his arms and brought his large hands over his genitals. She pulled them apart and stepped closer to him._

 _Her hands glided over his chest, flicking his nipples with her thumbs. She kissed his sternum and licked it while her hands moved down his stomach. She lifted a foot and dragged it up the side of his calf. She was so intoxicating._

 _He reached out to her grabbing her shoulders, massaging her arms. His breath was haggard. He wanted her, he needed her. He dipped his head to kiss her, but she put a finger against his lips and shook her head._

 _The elven goddess grinned and kneeled in front of him . Her thick, succulent lips engulfed his cock letting it slip into her wet, hot mouth. He moaned loudly giving into the lustful demands of his body. He was losing control and it felt glorious._

 _He put his fingers in her hair grabbing, pulling. She threw his hands to the side refusing any new attempt. He reached up and grabbed his own hair._

 _Her tongue licked his length and her teeth lightly nipped his skin. She drew her mouth closer to his testicles sucking one and then the other. Her mouth was on his cock again, it went in so deep._

 _Her hands slid up his thighs, caressing his thick muscles. Her fingers found their way to his backside and her nails bit into the cheeks of his ass. Her hands massaged him firmly pushing him back and forth, his cock slurping in and out of her delicious mouth. Her fingers steadily moved in letting their tips gently caress his anus._

 _Cullen tried to protest the invasion, but no amount of motivation would allow him to move. The pleasure of her touch outweighed his protests. He was hers completely._

 _He cried out when her pointer finger went in. It was only inserted by a knuckle, but the feeling was new, intense. The finger probed deeper, massaging his insides. Cullen whimpered embarrassed by the strange pleasure. It was only a short time before his cock released its thick seed down her soft throat._

 _Suddenly, he felt a searing pain. Sharp, barbed teeth penetrated the skin of his inner thigh and warm liquid began pouring down it. He screamed attempting to tilt his head to look at her. He couldn't. Her teeth left his inner thigh and he felt a new sharp pain on his semi erect shaft. A maniacal laugh sung out through the otherwise empty air and ringing in his ears._

 _Horns slowly rose into his view. They were dark, twisted, unnatural. The beautiful woody hair was gone leaving behind a pale lilac scalp wreathed in a flame of magenta. Brilliant, exotic, green eyes were now a terrible, ferocious, and hopeless black._

 _"You are mine, Templar," it cursed the words repeating over and over again in the depths of his mind. The demon smiled revealing her sharp, bestial fangs dripping crimson with his blood. Cullen paled._

 _The demon started her harrowing and sinister sing song laughter once more. Cullen tried to scream but his mouth wouldn't open. His body was frozen, he no longer had any control over it. He had fought so hard but despite his best efforts he had at last succumbed to the demons will. He had failed himself. He had failed his brethren. He had failed the world._

Cullen awoke drenched in sweat and, abashedly, cum. He had had the nightmare repeatedly since the dreadful days during the fall of his circle. Since he stopped taking lyrium, the nightmare only got worse. The only difference now was that his savage mistress was no longer the elegant elven mage, Neria, the Hero of Fereldan, but the wild, elven beauty Eletha. The Lady Lavellan. She had saved his life and countless other. She had been elected their leader, his leader. Inquisitor. Herald of Andraste.

The two women were easily comparable. Both were powerful, elven women who led the charge against forces of evil. Both were sensual sirens that could awaken the passion inside a dead man.

He hadn't been good enough for Neria. True she had showed some interest in him in the days preceding the catastrophic failure of their shared circle. Or perhaps it was pity that lead her to speak to him. His infatuation for her hadn't been a secret. It didn't matter. In the end Neria didn't choose Cullen. She chose a hero. She chose a king. Why would Eletha be different?

He was no longer the man he been either. Then, Cullen had been strong. Then, Cullen had had potential. Now, he was a washed up, lyrium addicted Templar, weak and broken.

Cullen got out of bed and went to his wash bowl. He removed his soiled smallclothes, tossing them to the side. _No_. He thought to himself, grabbing a cake of lemongrass soap and a clean wash rag. He caught his reflection in the still water of his bowl. _The Seeker found worth in me. So will she._

His buttered toast sat on his desk cold and uneaten. Despite his attempt at self-reassurance, his confidence waned. There were so many spry, young men in the military. They didn't have his history, his baggage. It would be so much easier for Eletha to fall for one of these men. Or women. He wasn't even certain of her orientation.

Her companions were also a concern. They spent nights at the tavern laughing and drinking. He knew she was close with many of them. Any one of those genial nights could lead to something more intimate.

He grabbed an invoice for a recent shipment of magical equipment recovered from a cave in Crestwood. The words blurred. He sighed putting it back on his crowded desk. A messenger quickly walked in. Recruits were complaining about the practice space saying it was too small for them to properly train.

"I'll take care of it," he said quietly and signaled for the messenger to leave. He stood in his lonely office while Levellan was out fighting. She spent most of her nights lying on the cold ground while he slept in a warm soft bed. She was putting her life in danger, relying on those around her to help keep her safe. One cold, lonely night would find her in a companions tent, looking for company.

 _She was unbraiding her long earthy hair, her delicate hands running through its thickness. She unbuckled her leather vest, her boots, her gauntlets. Sera grabbed her breast through the remaining cloth._

 _"You take too long," she giggled. Sera grabbed Eletha from the back of the head and planted a hard kiss. The edges of Eletha's lips curled into a mischievous smile as she grabbed Sera's woolen shirt pulling her closer, mashing their breasts together. Their kiss grew more intense, they were devouring each other. Clothes flew to all corners of the tent, ravenous panting filling the air. Their hands were gripping, clawing at each other. Beasts feasting on each other. The Inquisitor lied on a mass of furs, her back arching. Her hands were deeply imbedded in Sera's short choppy blonde hair. Sera had her face buried in the Inquisitors loins._

 _The Inquisitor's leg shook violently and her breath was heavy. She screamed loudly, cursing. Sera smirked, smug and satisfied with herself._

 _"Oh, they'll hear that one," she giggled._

Cullen heard the door open.

"Leave your request on the desk," he said not looking up afraid the entrant would see the crimson on his cheeks or the peak in his breeches.

"Busy day, Commander?" That voice. Cullen's eyes shot up. She stood there by the open door, the setting sun shining through creating a ring of light around her. _Maker, she is glorious_. He was glad for the thick table in front of him.

"Ele...Mistress Lavellan. Inquisitor." Cullen sighed defeated. After all these years the one thing that remained constant was his bumbling idiocy. She smiled, sauntering over to his desk.

"Relax, Commander. The Ambassador isn't here to berate you on political decorum." Cullen smiled. Eletha was always so confident despite any formal training. From her air, it would have been hard to guess that she had lived in the woods all her life.

"I'm sorry, Inquisitor. Did you need something?" Eletha picked through a few of the papers scattered about on his desk.

"Nothing in particular." Her fingers wandered, floating above white parchment, a wisp of gossamer atop a plain of snow. Her lips frowned and her brow furrowed. She looked up at him, the loose tendrils of her hair framing her face.

She opened her mouth to speak when another messenger walked in. A few of the newer recruits were violently arguing about the mages and Grey Wardens in the ranks. It was expected to get physical.

"Pardon me, Inquisitor." There was always something going on, something to do. He hated how circumstances kept him away from her. At the same time he felt guilty for being glad that disastrous events lead her to him in the first place. Her virescent eyes were on him as he walked out the door.

The recruits were tired, fearful, and angry. Considering the added tension of the possible end of the world, it didn't take much to rile them up. Cullen knew what they needed to hear. He left them in high spirits, tensions quelled for at least a short time. When would the world be normal again? He smirked. Had he ever known normal?

He left the training grounds and headed for his quarters. Before him was the tavern. He detested the swill it passed off as alcohol, but the need for a stiff drink was greater than his distaste.

She was outside it standing underneath a lantern. She was laughing with Dorian and Cassandra, her two best friends. Cullen had once worried about Dorian's charm and his status as a Tevinter mage, but the man had proven himself an ally. As well as a man who was only sexually interested in other men. Cullen could only hope that alcohol didn't blur those lines.

"Commander, " a boisterous voice called to him. Dorian had spotted him.

"We're having a laugh at our dear Seeker's expense, care to join us?" Cassandra let out an annoyed sigh and stared at Dorian coldly. Cullen glanced at Eletha, she was looking at him. Her smile was as bright as her eyes.

"Or you could simply have a drink with us," Eletha chimed, seeming to sense Cullen's hesitation. Cullen's mouth fell open. Words were supposed to follow, but they seemed stuck in his throat. He scratched his neck, something he often did when his nerves took over and his words failed him.

"I have a mountain of work to do," he started the brightness in Eletha's eyes burning him, forcing him to look away.

"Nonsense," Dorian interjected, "you must join us. Surely you will drown in that paperwork if you spend another second in it."

"I'm going to bed," Cassandra broke in. "I think I've had enough ridicule for one night." She made a slight, sarcastic bow to them and walked away into the darkness of the night.

"I...I..." he stammered.

"Dorian's right, Cullen. You do enough work." She wanted to spend time with him.

"Another night perhaps," Cullen finally blurted out. Without Cassandra as a buffer it would be too easy for him to become Dorian's next victim of playful harassment.

Dorian frowned.

"Shame," he said. "I was hoping to loosen up those stiff lips of yours, Commander." Cullen flushed, he was uncertain how he should respond. He gave up and walked away leaving them behind him. He made the mistake of looking back one last time only to see Eletha's smile faded. Disappointment filled her eyes as she stared back at him. This had been the last chance for them to spend any time together. She and her party would be gone for several weeks at the least. _Maker, I've ruined everything._

 _ **Eletha**_

Eletha's night with Dorian was fun as usual. They talked about Cassandra a little more, both eventually confessing that they were just as pitiful as the Seeker when it came to the enjoyment of smutty literature. She left feeling more relaxed than she had in days. One thing still bothered her. however. Her rejected invitation from Cullen.

She noticed his blushing around her, his stuttering. She couldn't tell if he was shy in front of women in general or just her. She found herself afraid to ask the other women in her group. She wasn't ready to let go of her infatuation yet. The world had taken so much from her, she just wanted to hold on to this dream for a little while longer.

Eletha had always had a fascination with humans. She had a human friend as a child, a flaxen haired young boy. He was sweet, bringing her wild flowers, daisies mostly, when they would meet up in a secluded field. He was her first love and her first kiss.

She was sure they would get married. They would live in a cute cottage next to a field full of the same flowers her gave her. They would have a litter of children, a mix of girls and boys that they would chase around until they would collapse in exhaustion and laughter.

Her parents had found out. They didn't share the same interest in humans that Eletha did. They sat her down, almost throwing her on to the floor.

"Have you forgotten what they did to our people?" They shouted. "Have you seen how they treat the elves in their cities? His family could have killed you, da'len! They could have stolen you away, made you a slave to his family! Or worse! How many of those shems have a sick obsession with the young and exotic!"

They screamed at her all night refusing to let up even when Eletha started crying. Her arm hurt from where they had grabbed her. She never forgave them for the loss of that boy.

When she met Cullen that day on the field she saw that flaxen haired boy grown up. He wasn't the same boy, she knew that, but there was something in his golden eyes that made her heart flutter the same way it did when she was a child. The feeling took her breath away.

She had intimately known other men while in her clan. Young men still learning who they were, as she was. They would explore each other, but it was never serious. Most of her clan found her an oddity for her views on humans. The young men full of hormones however, cared more about what was between her legs than her views.

Eletha took off her stuffy formal attire that Josephine insisted she wear around Skyhold. She had to keep up appearances in front of the nobles. She hated it. Tight, stiff pants and a square shirt. She missed her loose hose and form fighting cotton shirt that she used to wear when she hunted in the woods. It was light, feminine.

She picked out a ruby red satin gown from her wardrobe. She had gotten it and several other similar gowns on one of her trips to Val Royeaux. She might have to be the prudish Inquisitor during the day, but she would be Eletha at night.

She climbed into her overly grand feather bed. When she was still with her clan she would sleep in the crook of tree roots or in soft beds of flowers so she could wake up to their sweet smell. While she missed the warm breeze of the temperate woods the bed's soft mattress made her miss it a little less.

She thought of Cullen again and licked her lips. She wanted to trace the cut on his lip with her fingertips. She wanted to run her fingers through his curly blonde hair and have them get lost in its luxury. Her mind drifted to the other areas she wouldn't mind exploring. The thought made her blush. If he ever found out the dreams she had of him, all the things she wanted to do him, to have him do to her she would be mortified.

Her appetites leaned on the more provocative side of the sexual spectrum. Cullen, his face, his innocent and religious nature would most likely find her a deviant. He would be disgusted by her lustfulness, by her want to explore and experiment. She sighed. The pillowy bed had eased her mind, but the idea of Cullen condemning her "perverse" nature stressed her.

She got up and headed towards her open balcony. The jagged peaks of the snow covered mountains were lovely at night. The moonlight made the snow shimmer and dance. The chill forced her to reach for a nearby black satin robe. She shook her head in dismay. Andrastians and their oppressive sex lives.

Maybe she should just have mindless sex with the Iron Bull. He had already slept with the entire kitchen staff and half of the Chantry sisters. They seemed to have a great time with him. He sounded very adventurous. Eletha wasn't necessarily attracted to the Qunari. It was hard to see him and not see the harshness of the Qun, despite the noticeable personality difference between him and the others she had heard of. But one night of unbridled sex didn't have to mean a commitment.

She turned away from the scenic view and grabbed a few of her lavender scented meditating candles. There was no way she was going to have sex tonight, neither with a partner nor herself. She knew if she tried to pleasure herself she would only think of Cullen and that would make her feel guilty in the morning.

She sat on the warm stone floor in front of her lit fireplace. She lit the candles, crossed her legs and closed her eyes. Softly, in a whisper, she recited the Charge of Andruil; the goddess of the hunt.

"Hear me, sons and daughters of the People, I am Sister of the Moon, Mother of Hares, Lady of the Hunt: Andruil." She shifted slightly, getting more comfortable. "Remember my teachings, remember the Vir Tanadhal: the way of the Three Trees, that I have given you." Eletha sighed, feeling the calmness of familiar words.

"Vir Assan: the Way of the Arrow, be swift and silent; strike true, do not waver, and let not your prey suffer. That is my way." The words made her feel at home.

"Vir Bor'assan: the Way of the Bow, as the sapling bends, so must you. In yielding, find resilience; in pliancy, find strength. That is my Way." She briefly recalled being taught the words by their Keeper when she had been chosen to be a huntress.

"Vir Adahlen: the Way of the Wood, receive the gifts of the hunt with mindfulness. Respect the sacrifice of my children, know that your passing shall nourish them in turn. That is my Way." Relief washed over her, feeling her burden lift.

"Remember the Ways of the Hunter, and I shall be with you."

Eletha awoke splayed out on the floor. The candles had burned down to nothing and the bright morning sun seared her face. She didn't remember exactly when she had fallen asleep, but it had been some time after the moon hit its zenith. A persistent but gentle knock could be heard down the hall where the door to her bedchamber stood.

She slowly sat up. Her tousled hair fell in her face and by the feel of the breeze one of her breasts was exposed. She tried to blow the hair out of her face, but she failed. The knocking continued.

She got to her feet and almost stumbled, her sleep drunk body not yet up to par with her normal dexterous nature. She pulled her gown up, covering herself and re-tied her robe before heading to the door.

A female human servant in a forest green, woolen dress stood in the doorway. She was tall, taller than Eletha, her red hair held loosely back in a bun. The servant jumped seeing the Inquisitor in disarray.

"My lady," she said with a light Orlesian accent. She held up a plate of croissants; almond, chocolate, and apple. They were intended to be the Inquisitors breakfast. The servant blushed and gazed away trying to ignore the Inquisitor's sensually cut bed clothes.

"Thank you," Eletha finally said, taking the plate of Orlesian pastries and closing the door slowly. She found herself ravenous and devoured each croissant, barely leaving any time to savor the unique sweet flavor of each piece. She was thankful for the kindness of her staff.

She had mindlessly mentioned her love for the treat in front of a maid from the kitchens. She had tried several during her visits to Val Royeaux. The city was nothing but fluff and Eletha loved it. The frilly cakes were amazing.

With the plate licked clean, Eletha had no other choice but to get dressed for the day. Scouts had recently returned from a new location and they needed her to investigate it further. She would rather stay at Skyhold for more opportunities to bond with her companions. She also wanted another chance to see Cullen before she had to head out for what would be weeks of grueling drudgery.

She sighed. Blackwall was more than likely already getting the horses and Eletha's personal hart ready, at Cassandra's request, for the journey ahead and would be eager to leave. Cassandra always liked getting a head start on the day and she would take no excuses for a delay. Eletha begrudgingly put on her leather armor.

The day had been expectantly long. Her posterior ached from the saddle, she would have preferred no saddle, but it was considered unfitting for a leader to ride a beast bare back according to Josephine. Her legs ached with stiffness from riding all day. She would need to dismount soon.

Chatter sounded behind her. Solas was trying to explain to Sera the importance of the elves' past again. No matter how matter many times Sera protested and laughed in his face, he still continued to try. Eletha wasn't sure if she should be proud at his persistence or angry at his stubbornness. The Iron Bull and Dorian seemed to be arguing about something. They were too far back for Eletha to hear and she wasn't interested in prying to personal affairs at the moment.

Blackwall and Cassandra were discussing battle techniques of some kind. From the loud bursts of excitement, Eletha gathered that Cassandra was impressed with whatever Blackwall mentioned. Varric and Cole talked quietly to each other with the occasional exclamation of "shit!" from Varric.

Vivienne rode alone, speaking to no one. She sat side saddle looking like royalty. She was always concerned with her appearance. Eletha joked to herself that she was surprised Vivienne didn't have her own personal carriage. Or even more likely a garish litter that she forced the rest to carry. Of all Eletha's companions, she was the least amiable.

Eventually all conversation ceased as the day wore on. They were all growing weary and tired. Hopefully, they would be able to find a good spot to camp soon.

The land they crossed into was lush and beautiful. They had headed to the Emerald Graves where the greenery matched the woods she knew before. Being there brought back a sense of normalcy to Eletha's life. Nature was the only thing that reminded her of who she was; an elf that used to spend weeks sometimes fading into months in the woods scavenging purpose, hunting knowledge, and consuming the wild melody of the woods and forests. The world made sense to her there.

Eletha breathed in the perfume of the surrounding rich underbrush. Several patches of irises were in bloom along with a single patch of white bells. There was a hint of animal musk, a fox family nested nearby and several rabbit hutches littered the terrain. The sound of larger beasts echoed in the distance.

Warm oranges and purples in the sky spoke of dusk. A Cerulean Warbler twittered its last love song of the day above their heads. A few owls hooted as their time was about to begin. Bushes rustled as the night came to life. This would be the perfect place to set up camp.

The tents went up and in walked Eletha as she threw off everything that was uncomfortable. She wasn't in the mood to try and choke down whatever the cooks tried to pass off as stew. Instead she flopped down on her clumpy bed roll and fell asleep.

 _The night was warm and clear. A loon crooned nearby. Eletha hummed along with it, a duet of loneliness. She wore a simple sheer shift the color of pale blue sea glass, tied with a ribbon of sky blue satin. The shift's front dipped down between her bronze breasts, the straps twisted over her slim shoulders. The skirts jagged hemline fluttered against her knees._

 _She floated down the stairs of Skyhold until she reached its gardens. Their vine-covered walls were the only place she found any solace. She traced the perimeter lightly caressing the leaves of every flower in her path. Lilies, jasmine, geraniums, and vanilla. She inhaled their sensual sweetness. Lastly, she stopped by the blooming moon flowers. Their milky, curled, star-shaped lips unfolding under the luminescence of the moon. These were her favorite._

 _She knelt down letting the flowers enclose around her. The deep green stems were almost lost in the darkness fabricating the illusion of dancing wisps. They bowed to the fireflies emerging from their day time sleep. They would dance their nighttime waltz together. She watched enthralled, imagining herself amongst them in an angelic gown of starlight._

 _A different scent wafted through the breeze. It was of spiced soap and the undeniable musk of a man. The footsteps were heavy and far apart. He was a large man. There was no clank of metal, nor the crunch of leather. Only the soft whisper of cloth._

 _He stopped several steps behind her and stood there silently, his breath uneven. She heard the soft flesh of his hands rub against each other. He was nervous, afraid. He coughed gently. She smiled._

 _"Beautiful night, isn't it, Commander." She heard him gasp._

 _"How did you..." She ran a hand through her hair, brushing it back accentuating her pointed elven ears. It was a reminder that she had spent her life listening to learn the world around her._

 _"Oh. Of course. It is...beautiful." He shifted back and forth and scratched the back of his neck. He cleared his throat before getting enough courage to utter, "as are you."_

 _She finally lifted her eyes to him. He was afraid to approach further losing his newly found courage at the sight of her heavenly face. His golden eyes darted back and forth between her and the ground._

 _"Commander," she said firmly. He now kept his eyes on her as she stood and glided over to him. She reached up and touched his face. It was scratchy from the stubble on his chin. "You don't need to be afraid."_

 _She pulled his face down letting his lips hover close to hers before she finally met him with a kiss. His hands grabbed her face, pulling her close intensifying the kiss. She pulled them off. He lifted his head away and she shook her head with a smile on her face._

 _He began to speak, but she put her finger over his mouth. Her finger lingered there, tracing its outline before focusing on his scar. That delicious scar. Long and deep. She eventually let her finger slip to his neck, then down the front of his cotton shirt. Further down it went until its tip rested on his fully erect cock. Her finger lightly went up and down its length._

 _He lightly moaned and reached for her, but she skipped away a few steps. She wagged her finger with a mischievous smile spread on her face. She raised her finger to her face and looked him over lustfully._

 _"Take off your clothes," she said seductively._

 _"What?" he retorted._

 _"I said," she spoke calmly, "take off your clothes, Commander." Her eyes feasted over him while her pointer finger went to her bottom lip. She bit its side. He was confused and embarrassed, but he complied. The shirt came off revealing his athletic build from years of training as a Templar. He threw it to the ground. He hesitated, hands hovering over the lip of his breeches._

 _"Commander," she said firmly. They came off quickly, but he tried to conceal his erection with his hands. She sauntered over to him placing her hands on his lightly tugging them apart._

 _"Relax," she whispered, "I won't hurt you. Now, if you would, please lie down." She wrapped her hand around his arm urging him to do as she commanded. He nervously acquiesced and she knelt beside him._

 _"You're beautiful, Commander." Her hands lightly caressed his chest, teasing one nipple, then the other. She leaned over him, her lips following the trail of fingers. She felt him shiver beneath her._

 _She lifted her skirt and straddled him. She could feel his large cock between the cleft of her lips. She slid up and down slowly, rubbing her clitoris over his thickness. She reached behind her back and untied the ribbon that held her shift close against her waist. She dripped it over him letting it tease his skin._

 _"Maker," he grunted softly. He looked up at her, staring at her breasts, her waist, her pubic bone. She lifted her shift placing it to the side, exposing herself completely to him._

 _"You're ravishing," he struggled to say. His hips moved upwards trying to penetrate the wet warmth between her legs, but she continued to refuse him. She leaned forward before he could fondle her breasts, moving his hands to her knees. She let her nipples tenderly caress him as she kissed him randomly on his chest. He shivered again and his breath became louder, more intense. He wouldn't last much longer._

 _"Not yet, Commander." She stopped her gyration._

 _"Please," he begged._

 _"So polite," she said, "but you must wait until I say so." His face twisted in tortuous ecstasy. "Trust me," she purred in his ear._

 _"Yes, my lady," he whispered back._

 _"Call me mistress."_

 _"Yes...mistress." She smiled. She nipped his neck and raked her fingernails over his arms._

 _"Good boy," she purred. She began moving her engorged clitoris over his cock again, rewarding him. Her loins were aching. She wanted him inside her. He had waited long enough._

 _"Tell me you want me," she said her voice rough with need. He hesitated embarrassed, but his need was too strong to stay silent for long. He cried out to her._

 _"I want you, I want to be inside you. Please, Eletha. Please, mistress." She shifted her position giving his cock access to her depths. She sat back on it, letting it fully penetrate her. She let out a long and deep moan. She mashed her clitoris into his abdomen letting his hard cock shove its way in and out of her._

 _The grip he held on her knees tightened. Her nails dug into his chest hard enough to cause him to cry out. The pain only intensified her desire._

 _"Fuck!" she shouted. The tension in her womb growing stronger and stronger. Her movements quickened. She could feel him pounding into her from below. The animalistic moans he made drove her wild._

 _She exploded, crying out in pleasure. Her body convulsed, a warm sensation filling her body. He had cum inside her, his seed seeping out onto his stomach. All was quiet save for their heavy panting and the lonely loon._

 _She looked at him. His eyes were closed, his skin damp with sweat. He was the most stunning man she had ever seen. She lowered her cheek to his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart._

 _"I love you, Cullen."_

She woke up groggy. Her dream last night had been intense. Too intense. The ending most of all. Love was a strong word. One that she didn't use lightly. Her mind could have been exaggerating. It was a dream. Something told her it was true. It surprised her how easily she had fallen for him.

She wiped her arm across her damp brow. She had flirted with him, but if he wasn't interested, or if he was inexperienced he could have mistaken her flirting for something else. He might not have interpreted it all. Brushed it off as a part of her personality. She should be more clear with him. The thought scared her.

Voices started up outside and the sound of pans clanking together indicated her party was up for the day. The high pitched scrape of rock against blade rang through the cool air. She grabbed at any piece of armor she could reach without getting up. A soldier coughed. Horses snorted and stamped their feet. The breeze picked up and rattled the leaves.

While their relationship grew in her fantasy it stagnated in reality. Silence would only create a further divide. She was now at the point where she couldn't survive on fantasy alone. In order to face herself she would have to speak up. She would have to tell him how she felt.

The thought of him refusing her, made her eyes swell. She even felt her hands shaking at the thought of the confrontation. She could kill a demon with her eyes closed and a smile on her lips, but she couldn't talk to a man she cared for. She stood up and put on the rest of her armor before stepping out of the tent. The next few weeks were going to be long.

 _ **Cullen**_

Cullen paced the floor of his office. She was coming home today some time before night fell. He wasn't sure if he would be able to undo the damage he had done, but he would have to try. Each day she was away felt like agony. Each night led to the possibility of her getting closer to someone else and further away from him.

The paperwork was endless as usual and nobody seemed capable of taking care of anything. Cullen grew more and more frustrated as the day went on. He heard the gates outside opening. It could be anyone. Scouts could have been coming home, or a battalion of soldiers.

Voices traveled in from the outside several hours later. The loudest, Cassandra, was expressing her concern about the Circle. The other voice was softer, barely audible but clearly still a woman. His heart raced as the door to his office opened. In walked Cassandra and Leliana. His head dropped in disappointment.

"They don't need us watching over them, Cassandra. They're not children," Leliana said. Cassandra huffed loudly.

"You give them too much credit." The two stopped shortly before the large wooden desk.

"And you don't give them enough," Leliana replied. _She was already back but she hadn't come to see him_. The light from the window was fading. It was getting dark.

The three discussed tactics and options about an upcoming mission for several hours. The sun had been down for most of them. He had lost interest in the conversation when it devolved back into talk about the Circles again. Leliana noticed he was no longer engaged.

"Perhaps we should let the commander get some rest." She ushered out Cassandra to discuss the issues further somewhere else. He politely bid them farewell.

 _Why hadn't she come by? She must be alright or the Seeker would have said something._ He undid the straps to his cape. _Was he too serious? Maybe Varric was right. Maybe he needed to loosen up. Drink more, laugh more. Eletha needed someone more jovial. Someone who could bring her all the happiness she deserved._

He couldn't sleep. His mind was racing, wondering where she was, what she was doing. She had become his new addiction. Giving up he put on a simple tunic and breeches and went down to the chantry to spend the night in prayer.

Cullen didn't leave the chantry until early in the morning. He had spent the entire night praying to the Maker and Andraste asking for guidance and patience. His anxiety had not lessened. None of it had worked.

He walked out through the door into the garden. It was blooming with morning flowers. Eletha was an elf, she enjoyed nature. He picked a few that he thought looked good together and headed back to the fortress.

He approached her chambers and hesitated. He wasn't dressed to meet anyone. What would she think of him coming to her room. She might find it completely inappropriate.

Nobles were beginning to wake up and scuffle about Skyhold. It would be very inappropriate for them to see him in such a simple outfit and in front of the Inquisitors room. He panicked. A servant went by and he threw the flowers at him. He mumbled instructions to give them to the Inquisitor as he hurried away to the safety of his room, hoping the servant had understood.

Could he do one thing right? He had run back to his office to hide. He changed into his armor, but he struggled to focus on his work. Cullen mentally beat himself, ashamed of the disaster of the morning. He made a fist and hit the wall.

"Something wrong, Commander?"

"Maker!" he exclaimed. She was there. He couldn't believe his eyes. He thought he might be dreaming, but she didn't disappear when he rubbed his eyes. She wore her tan breeches and royal blue tunic.

"Commander?" She looked worried. She glanced at his hand. "Are you alright?" She walked closer to him.

"Y...yes," he stammered out.

"What did the wall do this time?" she asked playfully, smiling and placing her hands on her curvaceous hips.

"It didn't..." he stopped realizing he wasn't meant to actually answer.

"We need to talk," she said, the playfulness fading from her eyes.

"Of course." She stepped even closer. Her cheeks were red and her eyes darted all over the room. Was she nervous? He had never seen her so unsure.

"Cullen..." she sighed and forced herself to stand tall. "Cullen, I have feelings for you." She shouted it at him. His mouthed gaped open.

"What did you just say?" he asked. She cleared her throat a little more calm then the moment before.

"I said, I have feelings for you. I have for some time now..." he grabbed her face and kissed her hard. Only when the door opened did he stop. It was yet another messenger. Eletha broke away from him and ushered the man out.

"Private meeting," she said, slamming the door in the messenger's face and locking it behind him. She rushed back to Cullen and grabbed him to her. He lifted her up by the buttocks forcing her legs apart. He placed her on his desk. Her pubic bone rubbed against his. He could feel her heat on his abdomen. He was thankful he wasn't wearing his codpiece.

With the briefest glance of wanting she began to strip, first her tunic and then, after rolling back onto her back, her breeches. She was glorious. Her heavy breasts bounced with her breathing. She kept her legs apart so he could see the swollen lips of her labia.

Cullen hesitated for only a moment before he started untying his cape. She reached for his head and brought his lips to hers, kissing him deeply as she helped him remove his armor. She lightly clawed his face and neck unable to get enough of him.

She reached down into his breeches and began stroking his rising cock. He groaned into her mouth. His nightmare came to his mind. The idea that this woman could be a demon troubled him.

She moaned and his worry dissipated. If this was how his life would end then so be it. If the demon possessed him then he hoped the world would forgive him because he would let it. His life was hers.

With his upper body armor out of the way he could press closer to her. She pulled his breeches down and slipped his cock inside her. He moaned loudly at its slick sweetness. He felt her nipples pressed against his clothed chest. He ripped off the shirt so he could feel her against his bare flesh.

He pummeled into her so hard he thought he would break her, but she pulled him even harder. She plunged her nails into his shoulders breaking the skin. He could feel tiny trickles of blood drip down the torn skin. It sent him into a frenzy. He reached for her back and ripped at her skin. She cried out, but not in pain. She moaned and gasped.

"Cullen," she rasped, her voice thick with excitement. "Do it again." He obliged. He felt the forming welts and went over them again. She reached for him with her mouth and bit his neck. The pain pushed him over the edge and he came hard inside her. She screamed against him.

"Did you..." he panted letting his head fall into her. She was silent for a few moments before she finally replied.

"Yes." He hugged her against him. If this was a dream he never wanted it to end. He would hold onto her until his last breath. He felt her lips curl into a smile before she let out a short laugh.

"I guess you feel the same way." He chuckled in return. He stood straight so he could look at her and brushed back a thick strand of hair from her face.

"Maker, you're incredible." She smiled up at him. Her hair was disheveled and her eyes were drunk with orgasm. There was a drop of blood on her lip. He used his thumb to wipe it off. She saw it.

"Sorry about that." She said sheepishly.

"Don't be." He leaned forward and kissed her. Her lips were so soft. Knocks rapped the door and he knew that life was waiting for him. He pulled away and they stared at each other.

"I have to..." he started.

"I know," she cut him off. She smiled and got down off the desk. She scavenged for her clothes and put them on. He stood watching her. She was mesmerizing. The way she moved her body, every movement was fluid and purposeful. He had a hard time not reaching for her and ravaging her all over again.

The bite on his neck ached and the tears on his arms burned. He didn't regret the pain. It served as a reminder of what happened. Even as she stood in front of him, fully clothed he had trouble believing she was real.

The day continued on despite Cullen's prayers that time stay still. With it reality came rushing back. They were still in a war with a mad-man, would be god, monster. Any day could bring the end of them all. It was only a matter of time.

The thought frightened him. The Inquisitor, his celestial, elven starling was all that stood between triumph or absolute terror. It made him feel helpless. It meant that no matter how well the army was prepared, no matter how many allies they gathered, if she fell, so did they.

Eletha called a meeting later in the day. Predictably, as one issue was resolved two more took its place. If felt like every criminal, psychopath, and noble was enjoying the chaos. They used it as an opportunity to further their selfish and short-sighted goals.

He stared at her from across the large war table. Her hair had been quickly swept back into a hurried braid. A few wisps fell on the sides of her face. Despite it, she looked fully ready to hold court. No one would ever be able to tell how she had spent those few minutes in his office.

He could see in her tired eyes that the war was taking its toll on her. As hard as the time was for him, the harsh truth of how much the world relied on her couldn't be ignored.

He longed for night. In its veiling darkness they could be themselves. It was the only time he could with her alone. It would the only time that they could forget about the dreadfulness of life and just be happy with each other.

Assuming she came to him. Their tryst had been so quick they hadn't had much time to speak afterwards. He asked, begged for her to visit him when she was done with all her leadership duties for the day. She only smiled before walking out. Was she being coy? _I will never understand women_ , Cullen thought with a light hearted sigh.

When daylight ended, Cullen's anticipation grew. He undressed and changed into a simple tunic and breeches. If she did come he didn't want to be slowed by the heavy armor. He slowly paced the floor. Each footstep felt like agony. The door knocked softly.

He ran over to the door eager. He braced himself to see her face, running one of his hands through his curly hair and doing his best to calm down his nerves by taking in long and deep breathes. He opened the door.

There she stood in the moonlight, wreathed in its heavenly light. She let her fresh, clean, timber hair fall loose around her. She wore a thick, rich, midnight blue robe to protect her from the bitter cold.

"Maker's breath," he exclaimed his eyes taking in all her wondrous glory. Every time he saw her she was more beautiful.

"May I come in?" She asked in a sultry tone. Her breath hung in the air before fading into the night. Her lips smiled softly. "It's terribly cold." She pouted her succulent blood red lips.

"Of course," he said, barely capable of speaking and quickly moving to the side so she could come in. As she walked by a taste of jasmine and vanilla enticed his senses. She was a ripe garden of pleasure. He closed the door and reached for her, only she pulled away.

"I thought we could take things more slowly this time." She threw off her robe, revealing a thin, silken, sheer shift in sky blue. Cullen gazed at all the wonders the see through fabric revealed. She grabbed a rung on the ladder to his upstairs loft and swung on it sensually. As he stood there mesmerized she began climbing up the ladder.

"Are you coming?"


End file.
